


In the Interum

by Walutahanga



Series: After Hell [5]
Category: Angel: The Series (Comics), Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:37:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1883874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walutahanga/pseuds/Walutahanga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because the Fang Gang didn't stop existing while Angel was Twilight. </p><p>A series of drabbles set after the final IDW-issued Angel comic and during Season Eight. Uses characters and storylines from the comics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Recurring Pattern

“You have your mother’s eyes.”

The statement does what it’s meant to: Connor freezes. Just for a second, but enough time for Tansy Fry to kick the sword out of his hand. The last thing he sees is her boot heading towards his face, and then he’s on the ground, trying to work out how he got there.

“I really can’t decide.” Tansy’s heels click on the concrete as she moves into his line of sight. In a sudden, lithe movement, she’s straddling his chest. Her fingers trace his jaw. “Whether I should kill you, or turn you. Either way I get to destroy something Spike loves and Darla died to protect.”

“Loved me,” Connor agrees. He tries to get a grip on his thoughts. He should be doing something now, like finding his sword. But she’s touching him, firm and gentle, and her face is like his dead mother’s. “Only good thing she ever did.”

Tansy laughs. It’s a surprisingly sweet sound. She kisses his forehead chastely.

“Turning it is then. I’ll enjoy making you love my reality more than her memory.” She kisses his mouth then, and it’s not chaste at all. He tries to push her away, but his fingers tangle in her hair and he doesn’t want to hurt her. Not when the last woman wearing Darla’s face, he’d let a fallen Power cut her throat.

There’s the familiar faint crunch of the game face coming on, fangs digging into his lip and–

Tansy’s weight disappears with a gasp and a puff. Connor coughs as dust showers his face and opens his eyes to see another woman leaning over him, holding the stake that just killed Tansy. Her blonde hair shines under the street lights.

“Did she bite you?” Kate demands.

“No.” He coughs, wincing as pain echoes through his head. “No, she tried, but you stopped her.”

“You okay?”

“My head. Kicked me.” He blinks, trying to focus. “She was blond. Like my mom. Like you too.” Funny how he’s never made that connection before.

Kate sighs.

“Concussion for sure. Okay, lets get you back to the office. Let me know if you’re going to throw up.”

She hauls him to his feet, arm around his shoulders. She smells of vampire dust and determination and safety. Like family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tansy Fry was a character from the Spike mini-series, 'The Devil You Know'; a beautiful blonde vampire that Darla resembled and supplanted in the Master's affections. Seems like the whole family has an obsession with blondes...


	2. Recruitment Policy

“…so Mosaic had gotten old, and Spike had other stuff to take care of and George said that I’d fit in around here and that you needed someone your own age to lust after, which is kind of creepy by the way, and I had nothing better to do. So here I am.”

Beck stands on the office step with her thumbs in her pockets. She’s young, maybe Connor’s age, with long dark hair and smells faintly of smoke. Her clinging black t-shirt leaves her midriff bare, and announces that ‘Vampires suck’. She’s hot in a way that has nothing to do with temperature, and everything to do with the fact her fingerless gloves are made of leather.

“Well?” She says.

“Well what?”  Connor says, mind still stuck on the shiny silver chains looped about her belt.

“Do you have any _job_ _openings_?” She looks at him like retarded would be a step up for him.

“Sure,” he says. Then: “Um, so what can you do? Research? Magic?”

Beck holds out a hand, and a ball of fire appears in the air above her palm, sending flickering, golden shadows across her wicked grin.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Oh, Connor is _so_ keeping her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Beck was introduced in 'Spike: Asylum' and became a recurring character that adorably tried to copy Spike's persona. She's kind of like a mini-Spike while Connor is totally a mini-Angel, and my ship for them is in no way limited by the fact they've never even met in canon.


	3. Old Friends

Gunn gets out of the truck to find Eddie Hope waiting on the steps to the new 'Angel Investigations' office.

It’s an awkward moment. The last time they met, Eddie knocked him out, tied him to a chair, froze him, and tried to shoot him.

What Eddie does now is scuff his feet and says:

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Gunn remembers he’s holding an axe, and shifts it onto his shoulder. He doesn’t talk, waiting for Eddie to say something first. He doesn’t have to wait long.

“So I screwed up.” Eddie looks down at the ground, not at Gunn. “Big time.”

“I noticed.”

“After I tried to kill you, I went home to my sister. Tried to forget all about the supernatural. Be normal. But I couldn’t. I still remember everything I did. Everything I didn’t do.” He darts a look at Gunn, but not for acknowledgement or forgiveness as Gunn had half-expected. This is a knowing look, between equals. He knows Gunn knows what he means. ‘I get you,’ this look says. ‘And I know you get me too.’ It’s a little bit more unsettling than the standard apology for trying to kill someone.

“What do you want?” Gunn says bluntly. Eddie is silent for a second. Then:

“I came here looking for you. Connor and me got to talking. He offered me a job.”

“Did he now.” And Gunn had thought Connor and he were past the pettiness and distrust. Then Eddie adds:

“He said you had to give the okay first.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

That’s a little bit better, although Gunn has to wonder if this is some kind of test or message. What is Connor trying to tell him? That if Gunn wants his forgiveness, he’ll have to forgive Eddie too? Sauce for the gander, and all that. They might have hashed out most of their issues, but there’s still a lot to get through and Connor is still at that age where he expects everything to be fair and equal.

Then Gunn notices the way Eddie is not looking at him, and remembers this is not a pissing contest between him and Connor. This is between him and Eddie and what Eddie has done. What they’ve both done.

He shifts the axe from his shoulder and asks:

“You any good with weapons cleaning?”

“I take care of my guns,” Eddie offers doubtfully. Gunn hands him the axe, handle first.

“Two coats of polish. I’ll show you where the cabinet is.”

It occurs to him that giving a weapon to the man who tried to kill him is probably not a good idea, but what the hell. Trust has to start somewhere, and trusting Eddie to not-kill him is as good a place as any.

He opens the office door. Eddie follows him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eddie Hope was introduced in 'The Devil You Know' and had an aborted storyline in the main IDW comic. It was pretty clearly headed somewhere, which was why it was so annoying when IDW had to do a re-shuffle of all their plans to accommodate for Twilight. I'd give a lot to know what the original plan was.


	4. The Ex

“I’m sorry about Dez.” 

Connor doesn’t look up from his book, having already heard Gwen come in the window and recognized her scent. 

“No, you’re not," he says. 

Gwen is silent for a moment, then:

“Okay, I’m glad she’s gone, but I’m sorry she’s dead.” 

“Better.” 

“Were you sleeping with her?” 

“Jesus.” Connor slams the book down on the table. Gwen doesn’t flinch. “A woman is dead, and you want to know if I was screwing her? That’s low, even for you, Gwen.” 

“Not as low as ignoring the woman who got bitten in half for you.” 

Connor opens his mouth and finds no retort. Gwen just looks back, showing only mild interest. Whatever she’s being doing the past few months, it’s been good for her. That edge of desperation has gone, and her cool confidence has returned. It’s a reminder of how much Hell had changed everyone, how the steady stream of violence and death had worn them all down without them noticing. It’s only later, as they regain those people they’d once been, that they realize just how damaged they’d all been in the days and months afterward. 

“Why do you want to know?” He asks finally. Gwen shrugs. 

“I understood her. I didn’t like her. But I got her.” 

Connor thinks about that. 

“I wanted to,” he said at last. Brutal honesty compels him to admit: “She said she didn’t want a guy who was only trying to get back at an ex-girlfriend.” 

Gwen says nothing.

Connor supposes there really isn’t anything to say to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have strong feelings about the Gwen-Connor storyline and how it was handled in Aftermath. I treat it with fic.


	5. Warnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I really like the Spike & Gunn friendship.

“Are you going to tell me what you’ve been up to?” 

It’s not that Gunn isn’t glad to see Spike. He’d started to think the vampire might be dead, so the phone call at 3am had been very welcome. But it’s rather annoying that the man won’t give any straight answers about how his quest to kill the Senior Partners went, or why he’s back in this dimension. 

It doesn’t reassure Gunn that Spike is looking faintly gaunt, and his hair has grown out enough to show a hint of brown roots. Considering how slowly vampire hair grows, and how careful Spike is to maintain it – he and Angel could give supermodels tips on hair care – it’s a drastic slip in standards and a sign that Spike’s got bigger things on his mind. 

“Sorry, Chuck,” the vampire says, slouching in the booth of the all-night café they’d agreed to meet at. “Too dangerous. Need to know only.”

“We’re not exactly helpless, you know.”

“I’m not angsting about _your_ safety.” Spike rolls his eyes, as if Gunn had said something monumentally stupid. It’s weirdly reassuring to see that old sarcasm. “I’m more worried about Angel-Junior getting on his high horse and getting his head taken off.”

“Guess I can’t argue with that.” Gunn takes a sip of his coffee. The side of the cup says _‘Karitas’_ in curling green letters. This café used to be owned by Lorne, back before… just before. Gunn’s not sure who owns the franchise now. “The kid does taking some looking after.”

“Yeah?” Spike quirks an eyebrow. “Who’s he gone and pissed off now?”

“Two words. The Scourge. I haven’t been this close to death since I tried teaching Illyria to drive.”

Gunn talks for about an hour, filling Spike in on what they’ve been up to while he was away. He skims over the worst of it, telling only the funny or weird stuff that will keep him entertained without making him worry. Spike, as much as he claims otherwise, is a worrier and from everything he doesn’t say Gunn figures the vampire has enough on his plate.

Later, when they’re standing outside, about to part ways, Gunn asks casually:

“Have you heard from Angel recently?”

“No. He’s probably in Tibet somewhere, killing demonic monks and rescuing pretty girls from the local law firm. You know him.”

Spike’s lying, Gunn can tell by the way Spike’s hand automatically reaches into his jacket for his cigarettes. Spike knows where Angel is and is for whatever reason keeping it to himself.

“You should get out of LA,” Spike says suddenly. He’s focused on trying to light his cigarette, not looking at Gunn. “You and the Fang Gang. Catch a plane somewhere nice.”

“Why? Is something coming?”

“I can’t tell you to take a holiday without you getting suspicious?” Spike shakes the lighter irritably. “Just get out of California for a while. And stay the hell away from Europe.”

His hands are shaking. Gunn takes the lighter off him and flicks the little flame on, holding it steady for Spike to light his cigarette. Spike mutters his thanks.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Gunn says. “Whatever it is you’re up to. You’ve got friends here that worry about you.”

Spike stares at him startled for a moment, then quickly splutters indignant denials that he cares about anyone in LA, or vice versa. Gunn just nods, both of them pretending that Spike’s telling the truth and that there’s not a real chance that this might be the last time they ever meet. 


	6. Identity Theft

“Where is Jamareth?”

Connor had really been hoping that the Potentates were just an illusion cast by Myr. In hindsight he probably should have made sure of that, instead of just shoving them into the box in his mind labelled ‘traitorous lying not-angel scum’ along with everything else associated with Myr and closing the lid.

“Um, I know this is really hard,” he says, trying to be polite to the Potentates gathered on the office steps. It’s just him, Beck and George at the office right now and some of the Potentates have their swords out. “But Jamareth was an imposter.”

“We know _that_ ,” the Potentate in charge says scornfully. “We found the real Jamareth last week in Mexico.”

“What was he doing in Mexico?” Beck asks curiously.

“Two hookers and a bottle of tequila,” someone in the back mutters. The Potentate leader whirls around, wings flaring, but is unable to spot which of his followers had spoken. He turns back to Connor, teeth gritted.

“We want the imposter,” he says tightly. “We must dispense justice for this outrage.”

“Good luck with that,” Connor says. “He’s like a billion times more powerful than you. And he’s dead.”

“So the real Jamareth is an alcoholic man-whore?” Beck says, hugely entertained by this fact. “That’s why he was banished from the higher plains and none of you talked to him in like a hundred years?”

<Sounds like more fun than the one we knew,> George remarks.

“Silence, child,” the Potentate snaps. “Show respect for your elders.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Beck has her phone out. “I have to text Gunn and Laura and Anne and Eddie. I know Eddie didn’t know Myr, but I didn’t know him either and I still find this hilarious. Does Illyria have a mobile?”

She goes back inside, George trailing after her, leaving Connor to deal with the thirty or so men in skirts. There is a short silence, broken by Connor clearing his throat.

“So you guys aren’t killing good demons anymore, right?” 


	7. Identity Theft - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the first one was so fun, I had to write another one. And no, I did not like the Potentates at all. Why do you ask?

“Did you have to kill all of them?”

Laura is giving Connor the stink-eye as they haul Potentate bodies off the office steps and drag them out back where Beck is controlling the bonfire. Disposal has gotten a _lot_ easier since Beck joined the team.

“Hey, they attacked me,” Connor says. “And I didn’t kill _all_ of them. Just most of them.” 

“You could have at least incinerated them so we don’t have to clean up afterwards.”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s always telling me to be careful with my higher Power powers.”

“I’m not the one who staged a massacre on our office steps on the day an extremely rich potential client was coming in.”

Connor thinks that Laura doen’t really care about the dead Potentates, which is fair enough. No one really cares about the Potentates because they're like a bad rip-off of the Scourge with even less fashion sense. Laura just cares that it had scared off the quad-billionaire.

“We’re demon hunters,” he points out. “Dead demons on our front steps just show how good we are. It’s like advertising for free.” Even though technically they’re not demons, but whatever Potentates are.

Laura tosses a feathered wing into the fire.

“Mrs Mitchell is _extremely_ religious,” she says acidly.

“Oh.” Connor suddenly understands why the woman had started screaming and praying and carrying on. “Can we claim any tax breaks at least? I’m pretty sure this was a public service.”

Laura opens her mouth, then gets this really thoughtful look, and says:

“I’ll look into it.”


	8. Babysitting

“Um, I’m not really a baby kind of person…”

Eddie backs away from Anne, hands up to ward off the half-demon baby she's holding. Not that he has any problems with it being half-demon. Just that it's a baby, and he doesn’t have a good track record with those, particularly when they're crying like this one is. 

“Guys, come on.” Anne looks frazzled. “My shift starts in half an hour, and my babysitter cancelled. Please.” 

“We’re a demon-hunting agency, not–”

Eddie is interrupted by Gunn pushing past. 

“Come here, Darrow. Give your mom’s ears a break.” He handles the baby with the ease of long practice, slipping the bag that Anne hands him over one shoulder. He’s not intimidated by the crying either, rubbing the baby’s back absently while saying to Anne: “Six o’clock, right? Or do you need any longer?” 

“Six is great.” Anne looks about ready to cry herself in relief. 

After she’s left, Gunn walks up and down the office with the crying baby. Eventually he gets out the vacuum cleaner and turns it onto the lowest setting, which Eddie would swear would just make the thing cry louder, but instead makes it calm right down. 

“There we go,” Gunn murmurs as the baby hiccups into silence. “There we go.” 

“How’d you know that would work?” Connor asks, who’s got his uni work spread out on one of the tables, but since there are no urgent cases Laura hasn’t told him off yet. 

Gunn smiles down at the baby in his arms. It’s a weird smile. Distant and a little bit sad. 

“Your dad used to do the same thing with you. Something about the sound of the made you stopped crying. Eventually he figured out if he taped the sound, it’d have the same effect.” 

There’s a funny look on Connor’s face as he watches Gunn watching the baby, and for some reason it makes Eddie remember that technically Connor’s only a few years old, and that Gunn’s skills with a baby had to have come from somewhere. 

The silence is growing, and it’s going to be a moment soon if Eddie doesn’t do something. He clears his throat. 

“So anyone heard from Illyria lately?”


End file.
